


Dean fucking Ambrose is never sick

by TitaniumKitten



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Awkwardness, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is insecure, Friends to Lovers (maybe), Illnesses, M/M, Male Friendship, Medical Inaccuracies, Mutual Pining, Profanity, Slow Burn, ambreigns - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitaniumKitten/pseuds/TitaniumKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Ambrose has the immune system of a Mack truck. Until he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at hurt/comfort. Will try my best to be relatively accurate on the medical stuff, but please take into account that I do not have a medical degree and am way too impatient to do hours of meticulous research. ;) Set around and just after the June 2, 2016 SmackDown but obviously goes sharply into AU territory thereafter. Thanks for taking a chance on my terrible fic!

It started during Raw. A slight scratchiness in the throat and a bit of a headache. Dean ignored it. Because he’s Dean fucking Ambrose and he never gets sick. He powered through the discomfort and managed to get the pin on Owens, much to Sami’s delight once they got backstage. Cesaro offered to take him out for a beer and suggested he could also spring for a ginger ale for Sami. Sami flipped him the bird and Dean was glad to see that he was having such a good influence on his friend. 

It’s worse at SmackDown. Del Rio and Owens target him pretty badly and he’s angry that his body isn’t letting him fight back as well as it usually does. He’s grateful to be able to tag Sami and let him finish up the match. He hates looking weak, but he really did need Sami to help pull him back into the ring so that the ref could raise both their hands in triumph. Sami was worried and vowed that he’d drive Dean back to the hotel himself, but Dean shot him down.

“You’ve got Finn rushing in to see you for just a couple hours before he has to jet off to kick Samoa Joe’s face in or whatever. I’m fine. I promise. I know you guys want to meet at that awesome Italian place you’ve been researching for days. I’ll catch a ride or a cab like we talked about. Go!”

With a frown, Sami reluctantly left Dean to his own devices. Dean figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find a ride back and wandered off to the locker room to see who was left. Surprisingly not many. Del Rio and Aiden English were talking in one corner. Nope, definitely not. He saw the Social Outcasts hovering by a couple other lockers. First of all he didn’t want to have to listen to Axel. Second, if Bo was driving Dean was quite sure he would barf all over the car. Huh, nausea...that had crept up without him even noticing until now. He swallowed thickly and surveyed the rest of the room. Enzo. Perfect. ‘Zo was loud, but he was a surprisingly smooth driver. And pretty conscientious, all things considered. He didn’t see Cass anywhere, but he was probably in the shower or something. Dean made his way over to Enzo, slightly alarmed by how light headed he felt.

“Hey ‘Zo. Can I ride back to the hotel with you ‘n Cass? Sami went to meet Finn and I’m not feeling paying out for a cab.”

“That’s fine, dude.” Enzo replied. “I’m about to head out. Cass already left with some of the boys for beers. But I’ve got some Face Time planned with a little honey I met last week. If you know what I mean…”

Dean had no idea what Face Time was, but got the gist of what Enzo would probably be getting up to that evening. Ew. He nodded his thanks, then immediately regretted it as his temples started pounding.

“You ok, Dean? Ya look a little pale.” Enzo observed, zipping up his duffle bag.

“I’m ok.” Dean responded. He was Dean fucking Ambrose. He didn’t get sick.


	2. Chapter 2

He was sick. He was definitely sick. Enzo was shooting him worried glances as Dean moaned softly in pain, slouched down in the passenger seat.

“Dude! I think I should take you to the hospital.”

“No!” Dean croaked. “Just the hotel. Just need some sleep.”

Enzo looked unconvinced, but complied, getting them to the hotel in what was probably record time. Parking in the closest spot he could get to the hotel entrance, he hopped out and opened Dean’s door. 

Dean looked annoyed. “I’m FINE, mom.” he snarked as he undid his seatbelt. He confidently stepped out of the car and immediately crumpled to the ground.

“Shit!” Enzo unhelpfully yelled, too slow to grab Dean before he hit the ground.

Dean groaned, trying to lift himself up. But he felt as weak as a kitten and his body felt like it weighed a ton.

“Fuck!” Enzo added, trying to lift Dean so he could stand. But Dean’s legs wouldn’t carry him and Enzo wasn’t quite strong enough to drag that much dead weight into the hotel.

“Everything ok?” A quiet deep voice rumbled from the dark a few car lengths away.

“Roman!” Enzo exclaimed, his voice filled with hope. “I need help. Dean’s real sick. He fainted or something and I can’t get him inside by myself.”

The deep voice reiterated Enzo’s “Fuck.” and came closer. 

“I didn’t faint.” grumbled Dean groggily. “I passed out...that’s more manly.”

Roman came into view and knelt beside Dean and Enzo.

“Oh yeah, he’s real out of it. Haven’t seen him this sick in years.”

“I’ve never been this sick.” Dean whined.

With Roman’s help Enzo was able to get Dean standing, and between the two of them they maneuvered the unsteady man into the hotel and to the elevator.

“I can take it from here.” Roman said. He gave Enzo a nod and a smile. “Thanks for helping him out. You’re a good guy, Enzo.”

Enzo preened slightly under the praise. Not bad to get on the good side of the champ. 

“You sure you’re good? Anything else I can do?” he asked. He was honestly not quite sure about Roman and Dean’s relationship over the tumultuous last few months, but Roman seemed quite at home with a half conscious Dean leaning into his side.

Roman hesitated. “Could you get some supplies?”

“Sure, sure. Just tell me what.”

Enzo wrote down a number of items on a piece of paper helpfully provided by the receptionist and gave Roman a quick salute as he headed out to find the nearest grocery store.

“Room 314!” Roman called behind him as he wrangled Dean’s lanky form into the elevator and pressed the button. He chuckled softly as Dean tried to burrow into his side. He’d only seen Dean sick a couple times before and remembered that he became uncharacteristically touchy feely and emotional. The elevator dinged and he carefully steered Dean down the hallway. He managed to open his hotel room door without dropping Dean and half dragged/half carried him to the bed. 

“Oh babe, you are in bad shape. Definitely have a fever.” Roman murmured sympathetically, brushing sweaty strands of hair out of Dean’s face. Dean grumbled and swatted at his hand, turning on his side. Roman huffed and headed for the bathroom, running a lukewarm bath. Dean was dead to the world when he came back into the bedroom, but Roman decided that the bath and getting Dean into some clean clothes was more important. Rousing the grouchy blonde, he helped him to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet seat.

“You think you can handle the bath by yourself?”

Dean responded by slowly sliding off the toilet onto the tile floor in a heap of misery and exhaustion.

“Guess that is a no.” Roman stripped him and maneuvered him into the water. Gently, but efficiently he cleaned his brother who made small sounds of happiness in between sniffles and loud, hacking coughs. Roman felt himself melt a little. It was selfish, he knew, but it had been a while since he had felt like Dean truly needed him. Helping Dean out of the water, he started drying him with a fluffy towel.

Dean, a bit more cognisant at this point, took the towel with a murmur of thanks. “I c’n handle it, big dog.” he croaked. Roman gave him a nod and went into the bedroom, finding a pair of sweatpants and a faded t-shirt in his own suitcase as Dean’s was still in Enzo’s car. Coming back into the bathroom, he grinned. Dean had finished drying himself and was sitting on the toilet seat again, the towel wrapped around his waist. He was also snoring. 

“Hey, wake up sleeping beauty.” Roman whispered, gently shaking Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean’s eyes slowly opened and he frowned, looking confused.

“Clothes.” Roman explained as he held up the sweatpants and t shirt. Helping Dean into the shirt first, he then slid the sweatpants up and tied the drawstring as tight as possible. He tried not to notice how his sweatpants still rode low on Dean, his small waist not big enough to keep them up.

“T-thanks Ro’.” Dean muttered, pressing into his side as they made their way back to the bed. 

“No problem, babe.” Roman answered, pulling the duvet and sheets and settling Dean down. Dean snuggled deep into the blankets, groaning and making a pathetic whimper. Roman sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments, stroking the mop of curls that was just visible above the quickly forming blanket burrito. The burrito made a pleased hum. 

A knock on the door heralded the return of Enzo and Roman took several bags and Dean’s suitcase from the smaller man with a heartfelt thanks. Enzo nodded, whispered “I hope he feels better soon.” and headed back to his room, hoping to salvage his Face Time session.

Roman went about setting the Nyquil, Dayquil, Pepto Bismol and saltine crackers on the nightstand. Gatorade, ginger ale and pedialyte was put in the mini fridge. The thermometer was stuck in Dean’s mouth. He set about opening one of the Campbell’s Soup microwavable cups and added the herbs and spices he had asked Enzo to buy. Setting the cup in the microwave to cook, he took a glance at the bed. A mop of unruly curls and two blue eyes were peering over the top of the blankets.

“Want some soup?” Roman asked, amused.

“Hungry.” was the answer, as Dean took the thermometer out of his mouth. Roman took it from him and inspected it. 

“101.5. Not too bad.” Propping Dean up with pillows, he handed over the soup. “Eat slowly.” He cautioned.

Dean grunted and gingerly sipped at the soup cup. He seemed quite taken with it, but a few seconds later his eyes widened and he gave a hoarse shout.

“Roman!”

“Shit!” Roman scrambled and managed to grab a trashcan, shoving it under Dean's face. He rubbed Dean’s back comfortingly as he hunched over the trashcan and puked for what seemed like hours. Dean was trembling as he finally pushed it away. Roman quickly dumped it in the toilet and cleaned it out the best he can, bringing it back to the bedside along with a cool washcloth to bathe Dean’s face. Handing Dean a bottle of Pedialyte he had the ashen faced man take some small sips over the next hour. After the liquid stays down he gave him a couple saltines, happy when they stay down as well. Dean is blinking slowly, almost falling asleep while chewing the last bit of crumbly cracker. 

A dose of Nyquil is administered, then Roman helps him back under the blankets. Dean burritoed again, murmuring small noises of gratefulness and a few minutes later is snoring through the congestion. Roman gave him a fond smile, getting an extra blanket from the closet for himself as currently all the blankets on the bed were wrapped around a seriously sick lunatic fringe. He settled down on the bed next to Dean, propping himself up a little with the remaining pillows. Feeling the bed dip under Roman’s weight, the blanket pile moves to plaster itself as closely as possible to his side. Roman huffed a bit of indulgent laughter and allows the burrito to spoon as well as it can against him. He’s able to angle his head just enough to kiss the mop of hair just inside the blanket pile and smiles again as he hears a sleepy sign emanate from it. A few minutes later both men are fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Deano. I can't help it. I like torturing the poor guy. Any guesses as to what he's coming down with? Also, if there is anything that you'd like to see in this fic, let me know. Not promising anything, but I may be able to incorporate some requests.


	3. Chapter 3

A blaring alarm rouses Roman from a particularly peaceful dream and he blearily flaps his hand around before he’s able to find the alarm clock on the nightstand and hit the snooze button. There is an unexpected weight across his chest and after the snooze button is taken care of he squints down. The blanket burrito is gone, replaced by Dean sleeping on his stomach, with one arm flung over Roman’s chest and his head nuzzling into the Samoan’s side. He extricates himself from Dean and gets into the shower, groaning happily as the hot water works some of the aches out of his back muscles. Drying off and wrapping a towel around his waist he exits the bathroom. He’s digging in his suitcase for some clothes when he hears loud coughing come from the bed. Turning he sees Dean sit up in bed, his hair sticking out in an outlandish pattern from his head.

“Morning. How do you feel?” Roman asks, slipping on some boxers and a pair of jeans and coming over to the bed to put a hand on Dean’s forehead. 

“Better, I think.” Dean answers, his voice rough. “Uh...what am I doing in your room?”

Roman frowns, worried. Dean’s fever seems to be down, but memory loss doesn’t seem like a good thing. “You don’t remember me and Enzo getting you into the hotel?”

“Things are pretty hazy.” Dean says, stretching and letting out a growling moan. “It’s...sort of coming back to me. Did I...did I puke on you?”

“No. But the trash can had a rough night.” Roman chuckles.

Dean gives a nervous laugh and bites his lip. “Um...thanks. For everything. Uh, you know, taking care of me.”

Roman gives him an easy smile. He knows it’s difficult for Dean to let people help him; that he feels unworthy of the care no matter what and it makes Roman’s heart hurt.. Dean coughs harshly and pushes back the bed clothes, cautiously standing up. 

“Whoa.” Dean’s legs wobble and his eyes roll up in his head. Roman is across the room in a second, grabbing him before he falls and situating the blonde back on the bed. 

“I think you aren’t as better as you think you are. Or where you just lying to me before?” he admonished.

“Uh...a little of column A, a little of column B.” Dean admitted sheepishly, lying back down with a sigh.

“Probably doesn’t help that you’ve barely eaten anything for a while.” Roman says, going to the mini fridge and getting a gatorade. “Here. Drink. Slowly.”

Dean obeys and Roman putters around the room, picking up some of the clutter that had accumulated over his stay. Dean glances at the clock.

“We should get moving soon. I need to find Sami and get going to the house show. Shit! Sami’s probably worried. Phone!” 

“I’ve got this. You stay there and keep drinking.” Roman commands. Finding Dean’s phone in his jean pocket, Roman notices 15 missed text messages from Zayn. They start off with “How are you feeling?” by the middle “Answer me! I’m worried!!” and at the end “Enzo let me know you’re with Roman. Text me back when you can so I know everything is ok.” He is a little miffed that Sami thinks Dean wouldn’t be ok when Roman is taking care of him. 

“Sami knows you’re with me. But there is no way in heck you’re going to a house show tonight.”

“Dude, you know I can’t take a day off. Not with everything coming up.”

“You just fainted again. What if that happens in the middle of the ring? I’m calling it in and we are spending another night here. You’ve taken what...two vacation days in your whole time in the WWE? If anyone causes you trouble they’ll have me to deal with.”

“My legs are just weak.” Dean protests.

“Uh huh...and not like you need to use your legs to wrestle or anything.” Roman deadpans. 

“You should at least go. The champ needs to be out there.”

“The champ needs to make sure you’re okay.” Roman counters. “Deal with it. You’re stuck with me.”

Dean blushes and looks away. “You don’t need to do this.” He says, picking at the bedsheets.

“Well I want to. You feel up to eating anything?”

Dean thinks. “Pancakes might be ok.”

“Coming right up. You stay in bed and finish that Gatorade.” Roman grabs his keys and heads out the door.

Dean is keenly uncomfortable in the quiet room. He hates to admit how much he likes being taken care of by Roman and hates being a burden to him. He picks at the bed sheets again and is grateful for another wave of fatigue that washes over him and sends him into a troubled sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but gearing up for a bunch more angst and drama to come! \o/ Hope you are still enjoying. Feel free to provide suggestions if you like and I'll see if I can write them in. If you feel inclined, come say hi on Tumblr @TitaniumKitten. I obsess and blog about Dean (mostly), Roman, Seth and the rest of the WWE goobers.


	4. Chapter 4

Deciding against the rubbery pancakes offered by the hotel for breakfast, Roman found himself a local IHOP. He wasn’t sure if Dean would want his usual or something more plain. So one bag hanging from his wrist housed two Styrofoam boxes, one with a stack of plain pancakes with several small cartons of butter and syrup. The other box with the “Rooty Tooty Fresh ‘N Fruity Pancakes” with all three fruit toppings on it. Roman had the suspicion that half of Dean’s enjoyment of these particular pancakes was the name. He had steadfastly ignored the responsible side of his brain telling him it shouldn’t be a cheat day, so other bag held food for himself: a big steak omelet, a short stack and a couple sides of hash browns. He set the bags down on the desk in the corner of the room and turned towards the bed as he heard a soft moan. Dean was practically spread eagled on it and had kicked off the blankets onto the floor. He was writhing slowly and for a second Roman flushed, thinking he had walked in on Dean having a wet dream. But the soft moan turned into a murmured litany of “No, no, no…” and Roman realized it was a nightmare.

“Hey buddy. Got some food.” He said quietly as he walked to the bed, intent on gently shaking Dean awake. He gave a muttered curse as his hand made contact with the shirt of his that Dean was wearing; it was soaked with sweat; Dean was soaked with sweat. He felt Dean’s forehead and fumbled for the thermometer on the nightstand. Dean was waking up, blinking confusedly, and for one heart stopping moment Roman saw utter unrecognition in his face as he looked up at him. “Come on babe, work with me.” he whispered as he stuck the device under Dean’s tongue. Roman’s heart started pounding as he snatched it from Dean’s mouth the second it beeped and his mouth went dry looking at the little read out menu. “Fuck...105.7?!” Hospital; Dean needed a hospital. He tried getting Dean to sit up and come with him, but he was barely responding. Roman finally just picked Dean up in a bridal carry, banging the door open and staggering to the elevator. He ignored some weird looks he got heading out of the lobby and quickly got to his car, strapping Dean into the passenger seat. This rental had a built in GPS making finding the nearest hospital blessedly quick. He glanced over at Dean, who had started shivering and was making those painfully harsh sounding coughs again, his body almost convulsing under the strain. Roman gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. 

What the GPS said should take 18 minutes took him 12 as he came to a screeching halt in front of the emergency room entrance. He scooped up his coughing little brother and ran into the ER, laying the sick dirty blond in a waiting room chair. He positioned himself behind what looked like a grandma who was taking years to explain that she thought her granddaughter had a broken wrist. He gave a grateful sigh as she were told to sit down and wait for the girl’s name to be called.

The receptionist behind the registration desk looked uncomfortably like his mother and for a split second he felt his bottom lip tremble. “Keep it together, Reigns.” he whispered to himself and took a deep breath. Through some miracle he was able to give a calm and succinct description of Dean’s symptoms and quickly filled out some paperwork. He was still listed as “next of kin” and thanked his lucky stars for that. He returned to Dean’s side as soon as possible, putting a comforting hand on his back. Dean was getting more responsive, and curled his body towards Roman who let out a shaky sigh as he sat down next to him.

A minute later a nurse and orderly appeared with a wheelchair and he sent up a grateful prayer that they were taking Dean’s symptoms as seriously as he was. He helped maneuver a still rather limp lunatic fringe into it and loudly protested as the nurse explained he had to stay in the waiting room. A side eye from the orderly made him shut up. He knew wasn’t any help to Dean if he got thrown out of the place. Taking another shaky sigh he settled down to wait.

Two hours and three cups of disgusting vending machine coffee later, a middle aged woman with thick grey hair and a badge that stating Dr. Melissa Farmington walked into the waiting room and called his name. Roman eagerly jumped up from his uncomfortable chair and the doctor gave him a polite smile, ushering him into a small conference room, introducing herself as they sit down. She placed a manila folder on the table in front of her and set her clasped hands on the table. 

“How is Dean? Is he ok? What’s wrong with him?” Roman’s questions leave his mouth in a rush and he colored slightly. But dammit, no matter what is going on in the ring, that’s his brother in there and he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds. 

She opened the folder. “He is resting as comfortably as possible. You can see him in a moment. But we wanted to speak with you as his case opens up some public health concerns.”

“Public health concerns?” Roman is baffled.

“Have you ever heard of Legionnaires' disease?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medical inaccuracies ahoy! I am going to try my best to update every Friday and Tuesday but with life and other fic ideas taking my attention, there may be some delay now and again. I hope you enjoy. Leave a comment or kudos if you do, pretty please! It lets me know that people want to see more. I'm on tumblr @TitaniumKitten if you wanna obsess over headcanons. Thanks! <3


	5. Chapter 5

Roman is still a little shell shocked. Legionnaires' disease? He vaguely knew about its discovery back in the 70s, but besides that he knew nothing. He dumbly shook his head and looked back at her.

“It’s a serious type of pneumonia that can be fatal. It’s contracted from water contaminated by Legionella bacteria. Luckily it isn’t contagious from person to person contact. It often comes from contaminated water in air conditioning units, hot tubs and the like. The bacteria is spread in droplets of water or mist which is small enough for people to breathe in. However, it normally wouldn’t affect someone of Dean’s apparent health in such a severe manner. I see in his intake papers that he is a smoker?”

“Used to be. I think he might still sneak a cig now and again.” Roman admits with a shaky laugh, the word “fatal” making his heart leap up into his throat.

The doctor nods. “That could very well be the reason. Fatigue and lack of sleep can facilitate in weakening the immune system as well. Would you be able to comment on his recent sleeping habits?”

He wished he could. He flashes back to years ago when they would pile into a tiny hotel room and the feeling of warmth against his back as Dean would shift against him. He does have a flash of guilt remembering how much better Dean slept when they shared a room. And another flash of guilt for an entirely different reason. He clears his throat.

“I know he has trouble sleeping a lot. And our schedules...they are very hectic.”

“It is very possible that these two factors are leading to how serious Mr. Ambrose’s symptoms are. I see that you are both professional wrestlers, which brings me to my next line of questions...”

She’s worried about the possible spread of the illness as single cases are rare due to the bacteria needing to be aerosolized to infect someone and questions him about Dean's whereabouts over the last week. He shares her worry and his head starts spinning a little when he thinks of all the different places Dean could have gotten sick. It could have been any number of different arenas, hotels, heck even restaurants. He gave Stephanie and Shane’s contact information so that they could be officially apprised of the situation and suggested that they should get in contact with Sami too. He knows more of Dean’s recent whereabouts than he does and Roman feels an irrational lick of jealousy at that realization and pushes it down. 

The doctor explains the blood tests and chest x-ray they performed to come to their diagnosis and the toll that the disease has taken on Dean’s body. Roman’s head has started to pound by the end of their conversation and all he wants to do is see Dean, reassure himself and to squash the words “that can be fatal” that still won’t get out of his head. Finished with her questions, Dr. Farmington tells him that the Ohioan is receiving the best of care and kindly asks a nurse to direct Roman to Dean’s room. 

 

Roman hesitates in the doorway. Dean looks small in the hospital bed, the beeping machines he’s hooked up to both comforting and frightening at the same time.The nurses had removed his sweat soaked clothes, given him a bath and redressed him in some loose scrubs. Bags of antibiotics and saline hang from a pole, slowly dripping through the intravenous lines into Dean’s left arm. He’s sleeping fitfully, small frowns passing over his face and all Roman wants to do is hug him. Instead Roman opts to pull up a chair to the bed and fall into it, letting out a gusty sigh. He takes Dean’s hand in his, gently stroking it with his thumb. 

“So I guess you get sick in the same way you do everything. Wholeheartedly.” He quirks a smile. “You could have saved me a possible heart attack by warning me first.” 

The doctor told him that the antibiotics were working swiftly, but Dean’s hand still felt way to warm in his. As he passed his thumb over it, Dean gave a soft grumble, his face creasing in another frown. 

“Babe?” Roman whispered, daring to hope.

Dean gave a soft little snort, his face clearing and his body relaxing into a deep slumber. Roman yawned and his body, exhausted from the stress of the day, pulled him down into sleep as well. 

 

Roman sighed happily. He was laying on a beach towel on the warm sand while the sound of rolling waves met his ears. He was home in Pensacola. He’d be able to recognize the sharp clean smell of that salt water anywhere. He opened his eyes and looked down the beach, seeing Dean dressed in black swim trunks walking towards him. Dean gave one of his heart stoppingly sunny smiles; the type Roman wished he would see on him more. Roman raised his arm in a little wave. Dean returned it and started jogging towards him on the beach. Roman watched toned muscles slide under smooth skin as Dean came closer. Dean smiled and opened his mouth.

“Mr. Reigns.” he called in an oddly feminine voice. “Mr. Reigns, excuse me!”

Roman started awake, a nurse standing next to him. 

“I apologize for waking you, Mr. Reigns. But we want to take Dean for a few more tests and well..” she gave a little smile looking down at him. He cleared his throat, realizing that he was still loosely holding Dean’s hand.

“Of course. Um, sorry.”

“No problem at all.” She said, giving him a little sly grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super happy with this chapter, I know it ends a bit abruptly. Hopefully it isn't bad enough for any of you to get out the torches and pitchforks. Thanks a super bunch for reading and please leave a comment or kudos if you feel comfortable doing so. My muse has slackened off a little, so the next chapter may take a little longer. Feel free to come say "hi" on Tumblr @TitaniumKitten.


	6. Chapter 6

He decided on going to the cafeteria to wait and settled down with a bottle of water and a ham and cheese panini. Halfway through the sandwich his phone buzzed. Checking it he realized he had about twenty different messages from various co-workers, wanting to know what was going on with Dean. Apparently word travels fast. He sent off a quick group message saying Dean was in the hospital and should be ok. He had also missed three voicemails. One timestamped an hour before from his cousins, expressing their worry for both him and Dean. Another from Stephanie McMahon stating she had heard from the hospital, but wanted to hear from him what the hell was going on, and the last from a panicked sounding Sami. 

He returned Jimmy’s call first. Giving him more details as to what is going on and promising to keep him in the loop. Jimmy tells him to take care of “uce” and to not worry about a thing. Roman is grateful his cousins have his back. They tell him that management has just told the entire roster to come forward if they feel like they might be affected but that luckily none of the other superstars have gotten sick so far.

His call to Stephanie is not as pleasant. He explains the situation in detail, but all Stephanie wants to screech about is how he should have just left “the lunatic” at the hospital and how their various house show plans are ruined by their absence. He listens to her abuse for what feels like hours, then calmly explains that he is going to do what he feels is best for Dean and if she has a problem with it she can fire him if she wants. He enjoys the long pause, knowing however much she dislikes him he’s too much of a box office draw to lose. She agrees to let him have unpaid time off until the June 13th Monday Night Raw and hangs up with a huff. 

He finds that he is clenching his teeth and wills himself to relax before he calls Sami, figuring he owes the man a call.

“Roman! Thanks for calling me back.” Sami sounds out of breath and Roman wonders if he might have caught him while working out. 

“Sure thing. Just wanted to update you. Dean is off getting some tests done.”

“Steph just told us. Legionnaires disease? Of course Dean couldn’t just get the flu. I never would have left him to fend for himself after SmackDown if I had known it was that bad.”

Sami voice is a mixture of fondness and worry and Roman has to catch himself. It is perfectly fine for someone else to sound like that about Dean and possessiveness is not an admirable trait. 

“Right.” he gives an awkward laugh. “So doc has him on some major antibiotics and stuff to re-hydrate him. He had a real bad fever.” His voice cracks. “Pretty sure he didn’t recognize me at one point.”

Sami gives a sigh. “That must have been awful. It’s still awful. But you know, even if for that brief moment he didn’t recognize your face, I bet he still recognized your presence. He does that all the time backstage. Can tell you’re near. Kinda like a bloodhound.” He gives a little laugh

Roman is a little annoyed at this point. Here he is trying to be jealous of the guy and Sami is trying to make him feel better? But the words make him think back and remember Dean snuggling into his arms as he carried him to the car earlier that day.

“Really. Good to know. That trick might be fun at parties.”

Sami snorts. “Look Roman, I know we haven’t really...gotten to know each other. But we both care about Dean and...well...taking care of him can sometimes be a multi person job. He's going to need more care once they discharge him, right?”

Roman hesitates. “The doctor didn’t really discuss that with me. But I would think so.”

“Well then, let me know what I can do to help, alright? Stephanie's kvetching might decrease if we trade off caretaker duties.”

“Yeah. That’s a good idea. I’ll, uh, let you know. Steph’s okay-ed me out until the 13th, unpaid of course. Hoping by then Dean will be back to normal, but I’d probably get her off my back if I could make at least a couple house shows.” 

Sami gives a hum in agreement and they talk for a few more minutes about possible scheduling before Sami says “Duty calls. Tell Dean I’m thinking about him,” and gave a polite goodbye before hanging up the phone. Roman rans hi hands through his hair and gave a groan. Despite the supportive words of his cousins and Sami he feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Finishing his sandwich, he headed back to Dean’s room, hoping for good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean was being settled back down as Roman came in and he was overjoyed to see that he was awake. The nurse finished, turning towards the door and Roman flushed to see it was the same nurse who had woken him earlier.

“Look who’s back!” she said pleasantly, smoothing down the blankets over Dean.

“Hey big dog. Nurse Emily here has been taking good care of me.” Dean croaked, his voice rough like gravel. 

Roman smiled. “Uce. Good to see you’re awake.” He hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to get in the nurse’s way. 

Emily finished bustling around the room and motioned to Roman.

“Come on in. Mr. Troublemaker here was asking for you.”

“Troublemaker, huh?” Roman asked, amused.

Dean gave a half sheepish, half roguish smile. 

“Yes. Soon as he woke up he was being grumbly and wanted to get out of bed and practically start running a marathon.” She answered.

“Good thing he had you to keep him in line.” Roman said lightly, giving Dean a mock glare.

“Especially since his first words to me were ‘Hellooo nurse!” she replied wryly.

“Hey, I was pretty out of it, ok? Geez Nurse Ratched.” Dean grumbled.

“That’s Nurse Emily Millson to you, buddy. And looks like your boyfriend here is going to have to talk to you about listening to medical staff.”

Roman’s smile faltered and Dean had a coughing fit so harsh that the nurse was about to call the doctor. Dean was given a cup of cool water to drink and he waved away Emily’s concerns, insisting he had just gotten something stuck in his throat. She gave him a little motherly glare, but allowed Roman to usher her politely from the room. 

Roman turned back to the bed and they both stared at each other for a beat before they both started chuckling.

“Dude, what the heck made her think you were my boyfriend?”

Roman flushed and gave a shrug, moving back to sit at the chair by the bed. 

“Who knows. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit with a truck, then had someone run a cheese grater on my throat and lungs.” Dean admits. “You, uh, saved my life, Roman.”

Roman’s throat goes dry. “I did, didn’t I…” he says a little dazed.

“I can’t…” Dean’s voice cracks. “I just....thanks man. I owe you big.”

“You can pay me back by getting better in time to beat everyone’s ass in the ladder match. What would I do without your trouble making ass around, anyway?”

“Uce…” Dean's voice trails off and Roman can see that his eyes are suspiciously bright.

“The only person I’d like to see the title on than myself is you.”

“Yeah well,” Dean gives a small grin. “It’ll be fun to finally beat your ass.”

Roman gives a bark of laughter. “Only person I’d ever want to beat me in the ring, too. I know things are going to get hairy. But we’re fighting for the same prize again and we’ll do what we have to do.”

Dean nods, his eyes starting to flutter shut, and he blinks rapidly trying to keep them open. 

“Dammit. They told me that bein’ tired is part of the deal sometimes, but this sucks.”

“Hey, it’s ok, Uce. Take all the rest you need. I’ll be here”

Dean gave him a sweet, tired smile and let his eyes close. 

Roman shifted in his chair and pulled out his phone, deciding on some idle internet browsing as Dean slept. A few nurses came in and out over the next hour, checking vitals and Dean’s temperature. After a half an hour of playing flappy bird, he decided to stretch his legs and was greeted by Dr. Farmington in the hallway.

“Just the person I wanted to see. I have the test results back and they are very promising. We can discuss this with Dean.”

“He’s sleeping. Can we just discuss it ourselves for now?”

“Of course.” 

She led him to a small alcove with a table and a few chairs.

“His fever has gone down nicely. He has been hovering around 100 degrees for the last two hours. We’d like to get him a bit lower and I’m hopeful we will be able to reach that within the next few hours. We don’t want to have his temperature fluctuate too rapidly, so we are taking it slowly. The buildup of mucus in his lungs has decreased and he is responding to the antibiotics very well.”

“He seems really worn out.”

“A product of the wear and tear that the disease can have upon the body. Prognosis is good, however it is possible that he may suffer from fatigue, joint or muscle pain and to a lesser extent concentration problems for weeks if not months.”

“Months? I don’t think...I mean with our jobs that’s just not..workable.”

The doctor gives an encouraging smile. “Due to the fact that he is in excellent shape, I’m pretty confident he will recover quickly. But it really is a case by case basis, Mr. Reigns. We’ll have to take it a day at a time. If his recovery here continues favorably I will feel comfortable discharging him as early as tomorrow. Once he’s discharged I’d like him to be on bed rest for three to four days. As for physical activity, I would strongly encourage he not participate in anything strenuous for at least a week. And then to take it slowly. I’ll provide you with a couple prescriptions for him to take. At least for the first week I’d like someone to stay with him. Would that be you?”

“Yeah. Myself and another co-worker...friend...were going to keep an eye on him.”

“Good. It’s rare, but sometimes complications can crop up within the first week and it’s helpful if the patient has a support system to help them. That and from what Nurse Millson tells me, Dean might be a little bit of a problem patient.” The doctor gives a cheerful grin. 

Roman snorts. “Yeah. He’s not too good at taking orders.”

“Well he is very lucky to have you as a...friend.”

Roman flushed a little and she kindly ignored it, going over a few more details before allowing Roman to escape back into the hallway as she went to check on some other patients.

“Does everyone in this god forsaken place think he’s my boyfriend?” Roman muttered, annoyed, and decided to get some air before going back to Dean’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline starts to get a bit screwy starting this chapter. Just try to pretend there were a couple extra weeks before Money in the Bank. Thanks for the kind comments and kudos. They really do mean a lot.


	8. Chapter 8

There’s a small park-like area next to one of the side doors to the hospital and Roman settles himself on a bench, talking a deep breath. He’s not sure what is going on in his brain, but he needs to keep it together. Somehow this sudden close proximity to Dean, especially in his needy state, has awoken feelings that he’s pushed down for years. Ones he has kept in the dark that he can’t afford to come back into the daylight. Especially now with everything in front of them...him. He’ll always care for Dean, they’ll always be friends, they’ve gone through too much for that not to be the case. But he needs to keep his eyes on the prize, which isn’t Dean, though a small voice in his head helpfully tells him he’s wrong. He is getting a little panicked thinking about nursing him since they’ll be spending a lot of time together; leaving Dean in a time of need is unthinkable with the papa bear attitude that has reared its head. The harsh coughs, the little moans of pain, the way he looked when Roman picked him up in his arms to take him to the hospital...Roman figures he’s going to be in papa bear mode for much longer than Dean would want him to be.

“And only in papa bear mode” he grumbled to himself. If he focused on being an overbearing worry wart it may take his mind off other things. It makes him a little sick that Dean is lying in a hospital bed and all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss him. Shaking his head, he slowly makes his way back to Dean’s room.  


Pausing in the doorway he sees that Dean is sleeping soundly and making the occasional little snore. He gives a fond smile and settles back down into his chair. He takes out his phone and sends a couple text messages to his cousins and to Sami. They decide on using Dean’s condo as a home base and Jimmy and Jey offer to play “nurse” too. Roman’s reservations on being in close proximity to Dean lessen as he makes plans to have Jimmy, Jey and Sami take a large chunk of the responsibility. Less time around Dean means less opportunity for him to have his resolve weaken. He nods to himself, less temptation is a good thing. He sends off one more text to Sami and settles down for a nap.

Dean blinks, slowly waking himself from a peaceful dream. Coughing and looking around the darkened room he noted the digital clock stating the time as twelve thirty. He stretches, groaning quietly and looked to his right at the sound of a rather loud snore. Roman was awkwardly positioned in the bedside chair with his head tipped to the left, wetting the shoulder of his henley shirt with a little bit of drool. Dean couldn’t help but give him a fond smile, grateful to have someone at his bedside. He felt awful that Roman was sacrificing so much for him, neatly ignoring that he would do the same if Roman was in his position. He wants to protest to him again, tell him to go back on the road, that it’s ok for him to leave. But he knows in his heart of hearts that he selfishly wants Roman to stay with him. He chuckles to himself a little, big badass devil may care Dean Ambrose getting awkward and shy around a guy he’s known for years. He’s keenly aware that his crush on Roman was never reciprocated. He has studiously for years only referred to it as a crush, because that’s all it is. Definitely. He shifts in the hospital bed and let’s fatigue pull him back into sleep.

Roman starts himself awake groaning and rubbing his eyes; an unremembered nightmare tugging at his consciousness. His watch tells him it’s almost seven and he gives a bone cracking stretch, heading for the bathroom. When he comes out Dean is awake, but still looking groggy.

“Hey.” Roman says, walking to the bed and giving Dean an appraising look. “You still look pretty rough, buddy.” He can’t help himself from ruffling the shaggy mop of bed head in front of him. “Impressive.” He teases.

“Shuddup.” Dean grumbles, giving a hacking cough. “I’m an invalid. You hafta be nice to invalids.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.” He nods emphatically. “You also have to go get me better food than the slop I bet they are gonna bring me for breakfast.”

“Last time I got you pancakes didn’t end so well.” Roman replies mildly. 

Dean ducks his head. “Waffles?”

Roman gives him a little glare  
“Please?” Dean tries.

Roman huffs, the dirty blonde has better puppy dog eyes than he remembered. 

“Fine. But you behave and don’t give the nurses any problems, got it?”

“Moi?” Dean tries to look hurt. “Paragon of virtue and obedience here.”

Roman’s chuckle turns into a worried frown as Dean coughs again and he pours him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table by the bed. A few sips help the coughs subside and Dean waves him away.

“Waffles. Chop Chop.”

Roman knows this is Dean’s version of telling him not to worry; he really wants to stay and hover, but he decides getting Dean something to eat falls within the purview of being a “papa bear”. He absently drops a kiss on the top of the mop of curls.

“Be back soon.”

Dean does not watch Roman’s ass as he is leaving. He does _not _.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay guys. Life got really crazy and once it settled down a bit my muse had vanished. Happily it seems to be back. I'm going to try my best to update once a week from now on. Thanks for those sticking with this story and I appreciate every kudos and comment more than you could imagine.


	9. Chapter 9

When Roman returns Nurse Emily is helping Dean with a breathing test. Dean looks frustrated and Roman gathers that they’ve been at it for a little while and the results may not be good. Once they’re done he walks into the room, laden with a bag of food. 

“He is doing so much better.” The nurse says, giving him a smile.

“Not good enough.” Dean mutters, his voice verging close to petulant.

“You’re doing remarkably well, Dean. It’s still possible you may be released today. Don’t get discouraged. And looks like you’ve got some delicious food coming your way judging from the smells coming from that bag.” 

The nurse gave him a pat on the shoulder and turned to Roman.

“His lung function isn’t quite where we want it yet. But I’m confident he will get there. He’s doing well and I’m hoping his strength will return quickly. He does need to keep up a positive attitude though, it can really help with the healing process.”

“I’m right here.” Dean complains, his voice now verging on temper tantrum levels.

“I see what you mean.” Roman grins.

She gave him a wry smile. “I’ll let you two enjoy your breakfast. I’ll be back for some more tests around lunch time, but for now he gets a reprieve.”

Roman unpacked the bag full of food to the ravenous eyes of a salivating ginger blonde. He settled the styrofoam box which included a fluffy belgian waffle covered in strawberries and whipped cream on a little adjustable table and pulled it into position in front of Dean. Settling a few packets of maple syrup on the bedside table, he handed Dean a fork and knife.

“Damn Roman, you are so good to me.” Dean made a happy little moan as he doused the waffle in obscene amounts of maple syrup and took a gigantic bite.

Roman cleared his throat. “Watch it Dean. Don’t want you getting better just to die from choking on a damn waffle.”

Dean grinned at him, deliberately chomping on the huge wad of waffle with his mouth open.

Roman’s lips twitched. “You’re disgusting.” 

“You love me and you know it.” Dean snarked after managing to swallow his mouthful.

In the process of looking down at his Styrofoam box of scrambled eggs and toast when Dean spoke, Roman froze and didn’t dare look up. There was a long, awkward pause and he could feel tension swirling in the room. He opened his mouth, afraid of what his brain was going to supply as a response. 

“Mr. Ambrose. It is good to see you awake.” Dr. Farmington’s voice came from the doorway. “Roman and I already spoke, but I wanted to go over some things with you as well. Especially in the light of the last tests that were performed. Please continue with your breakfast.” 

Roman listens intently as she talks, in case he missed anything from the first time they talked about Dean’s recovery. Dean raises a surprised raised eyebrow when the doctor makes a mention of the others that will be keeping an eye on him during his recovery, and Roman has a little feeling of guilt that he hadn’t yet filled him in. 

“...Like the nurse may have already told you, your lung function isn’t quite where we want it yet, but once it is I will feel comfortable discharging you from the hospital. Again, we want you to take it slowly. I realize you have a very physical job, but overdoing it has a high likelihood of least causing another hospital stay and setting back your full recovery. At discharge I’ll be writing you several prescriptions which you’ll need to follow strictly. We will also provide you with detailed discharge papers that will go over this information as well. Of course we’ll want you to follow up with your own physician. We can provide them a copy of your medical records from your stay here to facilitate the rest of your recovery.” 

The discussion did not last much longer, and Dr. Farmington answered the questions they had before giving them each a firm handshake and leaving them alone. Roman notes that Dean just picked at his food and is about to open his mouth when he’s beaten to the punch.

“So, who else have you roped in to take care of me?” Dean asked, amused.

“No one was roped, they all offered. Sami and my cousins.”

Dean snorted. “Of course Sami would offer. That little bleeding heart. Jimmy and Jey will be cool to hang out with again.”

“Sami is a real nice guy.” Roman said mildly. “And you better just hang out with Jimmy and Jey. No basketball, no sayin’ ‘watch this’ and then doing something stupid..”

“But those are the best kinds of hang outs!” Dean protested.

Roman gave a little growl and rolled his eyes. “Like when you damn near broke your leg trying to somersault on their trampoline and leap from it into a doing a slam dunk half way across the backyard?”

Ok, ok, dad…” Dean interrupted, smirking. “So what you’re saying is you want me to behave and lay around for a couple days.”

Roman gave a slight glare. “A couple days? You better have been listening. At least a week before you start anything even close to being strenuous.”

“This sucks.” Dean groaned. “Can’t believe I got myself sick like this.”

“Hey, you only got bacteria to blame. Not yourself.” Roman reminded him. “Now finish your food. I didn’t go out of my way just so you would only eat a couple bites of it.”

Dean gave one of his trademark sunshiny troublemaker grins and Roman sighed as he was subjected to him eating the rest of his waffle in the most sloppy way possible. Roman’s disgusted faces just made him smile wider and Dean made sure to give him as many shit eating grins as possible as he chomped away.

“Pig.” Roman muttered, digging into the remainder of his breakfast.

“You love me and you know it.” Dean retorted.

Roman decided to respond this time with a huff and angrily told himself that he did not hear a wistful tone to Dean’s voice. It didn’t do either of them any good to imagine things that weren’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me. I appreciate it so much. Things will pick up soon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness gracious I'm sorry for the wait for those who still care about this horrible thing. My muse left and some pretty horrible personal things happened and writing about someone in the hospital just did not appeal. I'm back, hopefully till the end of this thing. Should only be a few more chapters. Thanks for the views and hopefully this chapter isn't too sucky.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Dean grumbled his way through a couple more rounds of tests, the doctor looking more and more pleased as she checked the results. Roman tried to keep Dean entertained, but the idiot seemed to have decided that he was going to be as obnoxious as possible and Roman went for some air rather than slapping a recovering man across the back of the head multiple times. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to kiss Dean silly with every increasingly terrible pun the ginger blond insisted on torturing him with. 

By late afternoon Dean had to subsist with “yo mamma” jokes that made Roman groan, interspersed with awful coughing fits that made his heart ache. The jokes pretty quickly stopped once Roman quirked an eyebrow and asked him if he should actually tell his mom all the interesting things Dean thought about her. 

“Now, now.” Dean said quickly. “Let’s not be hasty.”

“Uh huh.” Roman grinned.

“She..she is a great woman and I think the world of her.”

Roman was enjoying the teasing entirely too much in Dean’s opinion.

“So I shouldn’t tell her that you said she’s ‘so fat and old when God said, "Let there be light," he asked her to move out of the way’?”

“No! No...you shouldn’t. I already have to recover from this stupid disease thing and it is pretty hard to recover if your mom has murdered me.” Dean muttered petulantly.

Roman chuckled, ruffling Dean’s hair. “I won’t let her murder you, babe. I’ve gotten too used to putting up with your obnoxious ass.”

“Hey!” Dean protested. “I don’t have an obnoxious ass. It’s a nice ass. I happen to like it. So do all those “thirsty fangirls” Enzo keeps talking about.”

Roman found himself nodding absently in agreement. “Yeah, yeah. Your ass is fine.” He flushed. “I mean, yeah...those fangirls.”

The nurse who walked in to check Dean’s vitals in the long pause that followed reported the tension back to the nurse’s station. Unbeknownst to the two men they had officially been dubbed as the cutest couple on the floor, and the report garnered a flurry of gossip.

Dean groaned once she had left. “I want to get out of here so badly. You think we can bribe the doctor?”

“No, Dean. And even if you managed to, I wouldn’t let you leave.”

Dean’s hopeful, but mischievous face fell a little and he ducked his head, grumbling a little.

“What was that?” The Samoan asked.

“Mother hen.” Dean answered, unnecessarily enunciating each syllable.

“Petulant brat.” Roman responded evenly. 

“Touche.” 

Roman chuckled. “Come on, it’s not that bad. A little longer here, then get to sit back and relax at home. Got the boys, Sami or me hanging out with you.”

“I guess it ain’t that bad.” Dean admitted begrudgingly. “You know me, don’t like this forced sitting around. Now, if I wanna be a lazy son of a bitch then it’s fine. But...this isn’t exactly the greatest time for all this shit.”

“You said it.” Roman agreed.”If you behave though...” He paused meaningfully.

“What?” Dean perked up. 

“I’ll make you Masi Samoa.”

“Oooo. Suafa’i too and you got a deal.”

“Promise?” Roman asked with a slightly cheeky grin.

“Dude, if I have to do my best impression of a dead fish for a couple days so you’ll cook me shit, I guess I can deal.”

There was an avid ensuing discussion as to what exactly “behaving” meant. Dean thought he should still be able to bounce around outside. Roman was under the impression it meant 100% pure bed rest to which, of course, Dean made an inappropriate comment while waggling his eyebrows. Roman steadfastly ignored the flush that stained his cheeks for a few minutes after that. They were able to hammer out some rules that kept him satisfied that Dean was resting enough and Dean feeling like the food to behaving ratio was fair. 

A polite knock on the door heralded Dr. Farmington who, by the amused look on her face, had caught the last part of their negotiation. 

“Gentleman, I want one more round of tests to confirm my decision, but I am quite confident that we can discharge Mr. Ambrose from the hospital this evening.”

Dean started bouncing in the bed in excitement. “Really doc? Awesome. When are the tests, can I do them right now?”

Roman gave him a glare. “Settle down.”

The doctor chuckled. “I’ll have one of the nurses come in in a few minutes to take you for the tests. It will take a couple hours to get the results. If they look good then you’re free to go. And terrorize Roman here rather than my nurses.”

“I’ve been a perfect gentleman! _You _called me a gentleman!” Dean protested.__

__Roman gave the doctor an apologetic look. “I’ll try and keep him in line.”_ _

__She patted Roman on the shoulder. “I’m sure you will. And I’m sure that Mr. Ambrose will do his utmost to rest and recuperate as quickly as possible.”_ _

__“Yup.” Dean said eagerly. “We got it all figured out.”_ _

__“So I heard.” Dr. Farmington said dryly. “Rest is the best way to recover, Dean.”_ _

__“And he will be. Believe that.” Roman deepened his voice for an extra hint of authority._ _

__Dean made a face and ducked his head. “Yeah, yeah. I will be.”_ _

__“Good. Hopefully we will have you out of here and heading home in a few hours.” She gave them one last smile and left the room._ _

__“So...you said you were gonna behave and you are already going back on our agreement?” Roman deadpanned._ _

__“Dude, come on. I just got a little excited knowing I could be out of this depressing place in a couple hours. Aren’t you excited about it?”_ _

__Roman swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was nervousness, relief, or something else._ _

__“Yeah. It’ll be good to get you home. I mean, to your place.”_ _

__Dean gave him a sharp look, and Roman flushed. Dammit, he was not going to ruin over four years of friendship over a silly little crush. He gave Dean a quick smile._ _

__“Remember...you behave, you get awesome food.”_ _

__“Yes, sir. I’ll remember.”_ _

__The nurse interrupted to take Dean for the (hopefully) last round of tests and Roman sat back in his chair with a sigh._ _

__“I can do this.”_ _


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just fyi there is a bit of drinking in this chapter. It's used as an unhealthy coping mechanism, just in case that might make anyone uncomfortable.

The tests went well and Dr. Farmington discharged Dean from the hospital, giving him a little motherly glare and a strict “Follow the discharge instructions”. Roman bundled him into the car and drove them to the airport. Dean fell asleep on the flight, despite the deep hacking coughs that made Roman’s heart leap in his chest. He glared daggers at a couple people that turned to look at them and made sure the blanket provided by the flight attendant was firmly wrapped around the sleeping man. 

Getting out of the airport in Las Vegas and to Dean’s house was a bit of a blur, but Roman made sure Dean took a shower and dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt before he tucked him into bed. Dean was too sleepy and out of it to grumble much about being “mother hen-ed” and simply snuggled under his covers, letting out a little snuffle he would deny to his grave before falling back asleep. The Samoan made up the bed in the guest room, and did not think the whole time about at the way the sweatpants lay snug over certain parts of Dean’s anatomy. He laid in bed for half an hour, listening to the sounds of faint snoring from the other bedroom and finally willed his traitorous body into a fitful sleep.

The next couple days weren’t so bad, and the two of them slipped into a steady rhythm that even Dean had to admit was nice. Roman would get up first and cook breakfast, because otherwise Dean would subsist on something he called a “happy bowl sandwich” which the Samoan doubted held enough nutrients to help his body heal. Dean would grumble over the healthy fare that Roman cooked, but would eat it faithfully. After breakfast they would usually play cards, watch tv or argue booking. Dean argued vociferously over having a mid morning nap, but Roman stood his ground. After the nap Roman allowed some extremely gentle yoga, just to keep Dean’s body limber, then Dean would catch up on reading he had missed out on while on the road. Contrary to popular belief, Dean was an avid reader and would consume anything from books about Bigfoot to biographies of Stephen Hawking. He was currently catching up on the Dresden Files and Roman would occasionally hear a fit of giggles coming from the battered La-Z-boy recliner that Dean had dragged with him from Cincinnati years ago. Lunch next with yoga afterwards, usually another nap and more hanging out in the afternoon then dinner, more reading and sleep.

The antsy-ness he was worried about in Dean didn’t materialize as badly as he had thought it might. And he didn’t read into the fact that placing his hand on Dean’s neck seemed to calm the man almost instantly. When they ran out of things to say they would just settle into a comfortable silence. It was the most peaceful Roman had felt in a long time, and as his date to leave came closer he idly thought about telling Stephanie to shove it and telling Sami he wasn’t needed. 

They had one more day together before Roman had to leave, and he wasn’t sure how he could leave their little bubble of, if he was honest with himself, domesticity. Dean seemed to be feeling the strain too, acting more the troublemaker as the day came to a close. Sami would arrive in the morning to stay with Dean for three days, Roman would come back for another two days then the Usos would be there for three days more. Dean would be safe enough on his own according to Dr. Farmington after that, though he got the irrational urge to bundle Dean up in bubble wrap until the end of time. If he was honest with himself he would say that he wasn’t really trying to hide the occasional longing glance, the sucked in breath when Dean would stretch and show a strip of skin as his shirt rode up. Roman considered it ridiculous, they had slept in the same bed, showered in locker rooms, but that little strip of skin made him have to clench his fists at his side and on more than one occasion he left the house on the pretext of going to the grocery store. Dean seemed to not pay attention that half the time Roman came back empty handed. And Roman was quite sure that the uptick in the amount of times Dean stretched over the days was just a coincidence...or his imagination.

There was no feigning in the gentle as possible bear hug Roman gave him as the Samoan left that afternoon. 

“Behave yourself, you got that? Sami will be in around 10:30 tomorrow morning. Don’t you be giving him any trouble.”

“Geez, mother hen. Move your ass or you’ll miss your flight.” Dean grumbled. “I’ll be fine. Text me when you land.”

Roman took Dean’s head in his big paws and studied him, just to make sure he didn’t feel too warm or anything, of course. 

“I will. Let me or Sami know if something happens.” He reluctantly let go of Dean’s face when the urge to kiss him started outweighing his restraint.

“Drive safe, big dog.” Dean said, giving him a soft smile.

Roman nodded, getting into the car and starting the ignition. A cacophony of “Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave!” filling his mind as he drove away. He grit his teeth and thumped a fist on the steering wheel, his frustration boiling over. 

“I can’t!” He bellowed into the stillness of the car. “I can’t ruin our friendship by telling Dean I’m in love with him!” He felt tears pricking at his eyes and wiped them away angrily. “I can’t…” he said brokenly into the silence again. “I can’t…”

* * *

Dean paced in his living room later that night, muttering to himself, at war with the voice in his head that sounded entirely too rational for the ideas it was putting into his brain.

_‘Why didn’t you just tell him?’_

“I can’t. I mean, look at the guy, he’s straight as an arrow. Anyway why would he be interested in me.”

_‘It’s obvious he cares for you.’_

“He’s a great guy and a good friend. People like that help their friends when they are sick.”

_‘And the way he’s been looking at you?’_

“I’m reading too much into it. I always do. Either people lie and say they love me and then betray me, or I push the good ones away with how fucked up I am. How much I fuck up.”

_‘You’ve fucked up before. He’s still around.’_

It was about then that Dean stopped arguing with himself and found his small stash of booze. He just really needed to shut up that little voice in his head, he rationalized. Half a bottle of Jim Beam later it was being pretty quiet, so he decided to count it as a completely healthy coping mechanism. He took another swallow and unsteadily set it on the coffee table, stumbling a little as he made his way to bed.

* * *

Sami cautiously knocked on the door again. He had expected it to be open, at least that’s what Roman had said, so he rechecked his phone to make sure he was at the right address. He was getting a little worried about Dean, and slowly walked around the corner on the sidewalk, trying to see if he could see any lights on. None were, and he nervously jumped the back fence, hoping no one thought he was a burglar. He sighed in relief that the back door was open when he tried it, and walked into the small, but well appointed kitchen that it led into.

“Dean?” He called, letting his duffle bag off his shoulder in the living room. “Where are you? Are you ok?”

He heard a pitiful groan coming from upstairs and made one himself as he accidentally bonked a knee against the coffee table. There was a sloshing sound and he glanced down. His eyes narrowed as he beheld the almost empty Jim Beam bottle. He stalked upstairs, ready to read Dean the riot act, but his demeanor softened when he found the other man hunched over the toilet.

“Serves you right.” He said sympathetically as he rubbed Dean’s back as he heaved into the toilet bowl.

A half an hour later Sami had gotten Dean back into bed, his face bathed with a damp washcloth and taking small sips of water.

“So, you want to tell me why you jeopardize your recovery and health by drinking almost a bottle of Jim Beam?”

Dean scowled over the lip of the water glass. “It wasn’t almost a bottle,” he muttered. “I had drunk some of it already before I got sick.”

“How much?”

“Like...a third was already gone.” Dean said defensively. “...it was almost a third.” He amended as Sami kept looking at him steadily. 

“I think my question still stands.” Sami said wryly. 

“I was in my head too much.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“How many times have I told you that you won’t? How many times have we leaned on each other before when we got overwhelmed?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dean answered, steel in his voice.

“Ok.” Sami said mildly. “I know forcing the issue won’t help. When you want to, you know you can.”

Dean nodded and Sami was worried to see that his face was completely blank.The ginger had an idea of the problem, but the way Dean had shut down didn’t lend itself to Sami prodding for an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any confusion over the part where Dean is arguing with himself, the italicized portion is his "inner voice".


	12. Chapter 12

Over the next two days the tension got worse. Dean looked miserable, but staunchly refused to say anything. His inner voice was both berating him for not trusting Sami with his deepest secret and whispering to him that Sami would find him disgusting for how he felt. Sami, on the other hand, was mother hen-ing to himself about his suspicions on what was troubling Dean, plus worrying about if stress could be detrimental to health recovery. He did a google search on his laptop which seemed to indicate it would, and his worrying increased. They both felt like they were walking on eggshells and Dean spent an increasing amount of time in his bedroom while Sami spend a lot of time on the phone, talking it over with Finn. 

The couple decided it was time for Sami break the silence the following day and fortunately he had some unexpected help due to catching Dean mumbling “Of course I would fall in love with the prettiest mother fucker on the roster” to himself as he had walked past his bedroom door. The ginger personally believed the ‘prettiest motherfucker on the roster’ to be Finn, but he knew exactly who it was to Dean.

Sami walked in and stood in front of Dean, finally confronting the Ohioan. “Just tell him how you feel, Dean!”

Dean winced, realizing Sami must have heard him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Dean! We all know!” Sami huffed. 

“What do you mean “we all”?”

“The entire damn roster and a good portion of the fan base.” Sami exclaimed irritably. 

Dean groaned and buried his face in his pillow.

Sami gave a sigh and softened his voice. “Dean. You’re my friend and I want you to be happy. You know how long it took with me and Finn. It almost broke the two of us. We were so wrapped up in our own insecurities that we couldn’t see how much we cared about each other. And once we finally “pulled our heads out of our arses” as Finn put it, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Please be honest with yourself and be honest with me. How long have you been in love with him?”

Dean mumbled petulantly into the pillow.

“What?”

“Since we debuted on the main roster.”

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Doing this to Roman either. You’re almost fully recovered and he is still acting like you’re in the hospital. He’s texted me about five hundred times since I got here.”

Dean mumbled into the pillow again, but this time Sami caught the words.

“No, it’s not your fault you got sick. And it was Roman’s decision to help you. You have nothing to apologize for Dean. Just please, promise you’ll talk to Roman. And I mean talk.”

“I will. I promise. But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if I’m...what if with all the crap in the ring he doesn’t…”

“Want you?” Sami sat on the edge of the bed. “I highly doubt it. You know you’re good, right? You’re exasperating and exhausting sometimes. But you’re honest and loyal and sweet as heck under that snark you hide behind.”

“No I’m not.”

Sami laughed fondly. “Yes you are. And you’re goofy, random and lovable and you are very fun to be around.”

“You calling me a goddamned softie?”

“Yes.”

“Well you’re an utter dork.” Dean muttered.

“That’s kind of the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”

Dean glared from under the strands of hair falling across his face. “Stop being rational. I’m tryin’ to make you angry.”

“So I’ll storm away and you won’t have to hear me saying nice things about you?”

Dean gave a huff of wry laughter. “Ya got me. Kinda fucked up, isn’t it?”

“We’re all messed up in our own ways, Dean. There’s no shame in it. Why shouldn’t we reach out to people who can help with that brokenness when we are having troubles fixing it ourselves?”

“So basically suck it up and tell Roman that I’ve been wanting to kiss him for years.”

“Basically.”

“When?”

“How about right now?” A quiet voice said from the doorway.

“Roman!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUUNNN! Short chapter, I know. But we're almost at the end! I just have to polish the couple chapters up a little, so they will be posted pretty soon.


	13. Chapter 13

“What is this, a fucking rom-com?” Dean growled out from the blankets he had just hidden himself under. 

“Remember you promising to talk to Roman? The promise you made about a minute ago?” Sami asked, sounding way too amused for his own good.

A hand emerged from the blankets with its middle finger raised.

An undignified snort came from Roman. “I managed to snag an earlier flight and got a cab over here. Sorry I didn’t give a heads up. Why don’t you take a break, Zayn. I think I got it from here.”

Panicked looking blue eyes peeked out from the blanket pile. “Sami!”

Sami, the jerk, looked entirely pleased with himself as he walked out of the room.

“I’m going to go finish packing and see if I can Face Time with Finn.”

“Traitor.” came from under the blanket.

Sami nudged Roman into the room as he walked out. 

“Dean…”

“How much did you hear?”

“Just the part where you said you’d wanted to kiss me for years.” Roman sat on the edge of the bed. “Come on Dean, we have to talk about this.”

The blanket lump sighed and Dean emerged, propping himself upright against the headboard, avoiding Roman’s eyes.

“Look, I don’t want this to make things awkward. I’ll just...I’ll stop. You don’t have to worry about anything.” He chanced a glance at Roman and was shocked to see his brown eyes were bright with tears and amazement.

“You don’t….you still want to though, don’t you?”

“Kiss you?” Dean asked, his throat going dry.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked away, fidgeting with the bed clothes before giving a terse nod. 

“Thank God.”

Roman tentatively reached out his hands, cradling them around Dean’s full cheeks and thereby turning his head towards him. 

“What are you…?” Dean managed to get out before Roman’s lips gently settled on his own, giving a firm but chaste kiss. He melted into the kiss as it became deeper, moving with Roman as he continued control over it. The need for oxygen finally prompted their lips to part and Dean gave a little noise of want as Roman pulled away.

“What? What was _that_? I...Roman.”

Roman laughed, pushing their foreheads together in the old familiar way.

“Do you fucking know how **damn** long I’ve wanted to do that? And stopped myself? And you, you wanted it this whole damn time. Dancing around it for years and…”

“Fuck. We are _really_ dumb.”

“Extraordinarily dumb.” Roman agreed, kissing his forehead.

“Roman...I’m uh...I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

“I’m quite sure I’m in love with you.” Roman breathed as he leaned in for another warm, wet kiss.

Dean made a grumbly noise as the kiss ended. “I really want to take this further, you have no idea. But still tired as hell and I don’t wanna traumatize Sami.”

Roman chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting this to go any further, Dean. I didn’t want it to, to be honest. Not because I don’t want to worship every inch of your body...”

Dean shuddered and Roman smirked. 

“But I want you healthy first. And wearing you out ain’t going to help with that.”

“Wear me out? Got a pretty elevated opinion of yourself, huh?”

“We’ve been in communal showers before. And that was when it wasn’t rock hard.” Roman winked.

Dean promptly fell back against the mattress, drawing the blankets up to his chin and closing his eyes.

“Dean?”

“Go away. I’m trying to sleep. Gotta get healthy.”

Roman gave a bark of laughter. “Dean….”

“ _Go away_. You’re impeding the healing process.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Remind me why I’m in love with you?”

Dean opened one eye and plastered on a shit eating grin.

“‘Cause I’m a lovable scamp and very fun to be around.”

Roman laughed and shook his head, an adoring look on his face that made a little dark place in Dean shatter into pieces.

“Ya know, there’s room for one more...”

Roman eagerly kicked off his shoes and jeans, sliding under the covers next to him. Dean laid his head on his chest and an arm across the Samoan’s thick waist. Roman made a deep, pleased purr and kissed the unruly bunch of reddish blond curls as he started to doze off.

“Roman?”

“Hmm?”

“When they find out whatever place that stupid bacteria was, I’m gonna send their maintenance guys a thank you card.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And if you ever tell anyone I cuddled on you I’ll deny it.”

“Ok, no revealing that you're a cuddle bug.”

“I’m not a fucking cuddle bug. Jesus Christ man. What the fuck kind of person even comes up with the phrase ‘cuddle bug’?!” Dean sputtered.

He sounded so annoyed that it sent Roman, who was trying not to laugh, into a coughing fit. Dean was fighting a smile once Roman was able to compose himself. 

“So what are you being right now? Mr. 'Not a cuddle bug'?”

“A studly manly man.”

“A studly manly man…”

“Shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t. Pretty sure you just declared your love for me, actually.”

“Dammit.”

“Go to sleep.”

“You gonna be around when I wake up?”

“Always.”

“Fucking sap.”

“Takes one to know one.”

The two happily bickered as they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

“So it worked?”

“Perfectly. I couldn’t have asked for better timing.”

“So do ya tink the lads will realize what we did?”

“It may take them awhile. They are going to be pretty wrapped up in each other.”

“You remembered to tell the Uso’s to cancel their flight and not show up on Monday?”

“I did. Did you talk to Stephanie?”

“I told her the only way I’d agree to be part of the draft is if she backed off the boys a bit.”

“Good man.”

“She was angry as all hell, but didn’t have a leg to stand on.”

“To be a fly in that room.”

Finn chuckled. “Speakin’ of flyin’. You leaving soon?”

“Finished packing. Going to call a cab once I’m off of Face Time with you.”

“Can’t wait to see you, a ghrá. I’m glad it worked. We make fantastic matchmakers, don’t we?”

Sami gave a shy smile. “Well, some people need their heads pulled out of their arses before they realize what is right in front of them.”

“So true. Go get yourself that cab, darling, see you soon.”

“I love you.”

Sami called the cab and did one more once over of the room to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. A quick peek into Dean’s bedroom showed both men were fast asleep; Dean with an arm and leg slung over the Samoan, quietly drooling on his chest.

Sami took out his phone, snapping a couple pictures. Just for insurance purposes. Never knew when he might need some ammunition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whale of a tale is finally over! I _may_ do a smutty timestamp or two down the road. But for now this tale is at it's end. Thank you for comments, kudos and for reading this terrible thing. I really appreciate it.


End file.
